


It's Only Me

by benrumo



Series: Minific Requests [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, trickster!John - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benrumo/pseuds/benrumo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I stick this up my butt, it's almost like I'm sticking it up your butt, isn't it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Only Me

Your name is John Egbert, and you have just about had it with this whole trickster business! Who does that asshole even think he is, wearing your face and calling himself by your name?! You would **_NEVER_** do the kinds of horribly stupid things he does! OK, yeah, sure, it was kind of funny at first. And he was a pretty decent prankster, at least until things started getting creepy!

“I don’t get it!” he whines again. That’s another thing! He’s whiney! You are definitely not that whiney! And your voice definitely doesn’t do that stupid, irritating, high pitched… _whiney_ thing his does!

You knock the giant sucker once again out of your face.

“We’ve been over this like ten million times already!” you snap. “I’m dead! You’re dead! Everything in this entire existence is dead! You can’t change the afterlife! That’s kind of the whole fucking point, remember? Nothing changing ever again. It’s a static existence. Static as in you can’t change me, so stop hitting me already!”

Not even Jade’s science talk seeps through his thick, candy skull.

“But that’s stupid!”

“That’s not even the real sucker!” you say, just because you know it will upset him. (Even if he’ll only forget it ten minutes from now, the look on his face is totally worth it.) “It’s just the memory of the real deal!”

“I don’t like you,” he pouts.

“Good! Go away!”

You storm off, blowing up a minor gust behind you. You know it’s pointless to try and outrun him, but hopefully he’s bored enough with you for the moment that you’ll be able to hide for an hour or two.

You fly through the open window of your bedroom. Well, your bedroom on the battleship, anyway. The last time that stupid trickster was in your real bedroom he put his sticky, candy hands on everything and replaced your pillow with a molasses-filled marshmallow! Ugh, it took you hours to get that out of your hair and you _still_ smell gross. Your best plan is just to avoid your whole planet until enough time has passed that it resets itself, saving you the hassle of cleaning up after him.

You make sure to shut the window securely behind you before collapsing onto your bed. You are exhausted. He is exhausting. If you never see him again, it will be too soon.

“Hahahahaha!”

Goddamn it.

“I know you’re not sleeping.”

If you ignore him, maybe he’ll go away. Yeah, right.

“Come on, Johnny! I just wanna play!”

“My name’s not Johnny, it’s John! And get off me!”

The stupid trickster has decided it’s perfectly comfortable _straddling you_ in yet another blatant display of his disrespect for the personal space of others. Fortunately, the trickster is significantly scrawnier than you. (You suspect you’re a little older than him, though he claims otherwise.) Even on your back, you can easily toss him off you.

“Ugh, you’re such a drag!” he pouts.

“Then leave!” you shout in hair-pulling frustration. “You’re always saying stuff like how boring I am and how much you don’t like me, but you never leave me alone! I can’t even sleep at night without waking up and finding your stupid lollipop in my face! Newsflash, dunkass! It’s a big afterlife! Why don’t you just… skip off and find your own corner of it to haunt instead of constantly butting in on mine!”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“This is what you call helping? What are you trying to do, drive me crazy so I’ll be more like you?”

“No, silly Johnny!”  he giggles. “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to help you get over all those stupid personal problems dragging you down! Trust me, you are sooooooooooo better off without them! And it’s so easy, too!”

“You don’t know the first thing about solving personal problems! You just flutter around all hyperactive and manic! That’s not solving your personal problems, that’s just pretending they don’t exist!”

“Is not!” he argues. “Everything’s peachy in my life! I’m not manic, I’m happy! You just can’t tell the difference because you’re boring and lame and… eyebrow-y!”

He uses his fingers to poke his eyebrows downward. You are not amused.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you prove it?”

“Fine! I’ve got tons of examples on how my life’s better than yours! Like… Like…”

He screws up his face as he struggles to think. Just like you thought, logic prevails!

“Like me and Dave! We’re practically married, you know! It’s really, really, really, really, really great!”

“Oh my god, do not even remind me of that! That is just so gross!”

“No it’s not, it’s great! Sex is great! Man, I really love sex! Sex is just… the best thing ever! And sex with Dave… Oh, boy!”

“Get out, get out, get out, get out, **_GET OUT!!!”_**

You kick at him because your hands are busy simultaneously trying to cover your ears and gouge your eyes out. You do not want the squicky image you now have seared into your brain anymore than you want to hear this! Ew!

“Hey!” he protests.

When you open your eyes, you see he’s used your flailing leg to vault himself up into a handstand. You stop flailing and he gives you a smile.

“Like that’s even all that impressive! You’re just using your flying powers!”

He shrugs upside down and lets go of your leg, floating on his own.

“No, I guess not. What’s really impressive is the size of Dave’s ochinchin.”

“Oh my fucking god. You did NOT just call Dave’s… Agh! You are so disgusting! You’re nothing like me!”

“That’s not true.”

“It is! It definitely is! Ugh, just get out of my room already! MY room, get it? As in not yours because you are NOT me!”

“No, we are the same! Totally and 100%... you know, except for how you’re all boring and stuff. But I can help with that! For instance…”

Where did his pants ago? Oh god, this is not happening! This can’t be happening! How did he even get them off that fast?! And what is he planning to do with your Colonel Sassacre’s Extra-Extra Large bottle of Disappearing Ink?!

“If I stick this up my butt…”

He twists the cap off of the ink and drips some onto his fingers. Only what drips onto his fingers isn’t ink. It’s far too thick and gooey for what you know should be in that bottle. You watch, dumbfounded, as a few drops fall onto his face thanks to the way he’s floating, slightly curled and still upside down with his knees half way to his ears. He just giggles and licks the drops closest to his mouth away. The drops on his nose and forehead stay, however, and not a moment later they go from black to glittery-sparkly.

“You trickstered my disappearing ink!” you blurt, so irritated you’re momentarily distracted from what he’s doing with the bottle and his fingers.

“…it’s almost like I’m sticking it up your butt, isn’t it? After all,” he pauses, too distracted by the fact that he’s _actually shoving the end of the bottle up his_ to speak. He doesn’t speak again until the base of it pops inside him. He may not be able to talk while putting something _almost the size of your wrist_ up his butt, but he sure doesn’t have a problem talking while _adjusting_ it inside him. “It’s basically the same butt, right? Well, maybe mine’s a little less tight. Hahaha, get it, Johnny? Less tight?”

The trickster version of you giggles while he… OK, there really is no other word for what he’s doing right now. He is fucking himself with your XXL bottle of disappearing ink. That sure is a thing that is happening right now. This is so, so wrong.

“No! No, stop! Stop that right now! And give me back my disappearing ink!”

“You really want it?” he asks.

He pulls the bottle out and wow, that was really deep in there.

“No! I changed my mind! I you can keep it, just get out of my room!”

You quickly return to covering your eyes with your hands. You can’t take this anymore. You really can’t.

“You sure? I gotta say, Johnny… This really is the good stuff. I’d hate to lose a quality item like this if I was you.”

You wish you could get the sound of his voice out of your ears. It’s got a definite… well, _sound_ to it now that’s… deeper and scratchy and _oh fuck_ , is that what _you_ sound like? Oh fuck, oh fuck, you do not want to think about this!

“Come on, Johnny. Lighten up. Have a little fun with me!”

“That is not fun!”

“How do you know?” he taunts. “You’ve never tried it.”

“I don’t have to try it to know that it won’t feel good! There is no argument you can make that will ever make me want to stick something up my butt!”

The trickster giggles again.

“I think you’re missing the part where you’re basically fucking me. Hahaha, I mean… Gog, I wish you were basically fucking me. This bottle is nice and all, but there’s no real substitute for a proper dick.”

Oh shit, you are looking at it. You can’t stop watching him fuck himself. The bottle is so thick, you can’t imagine ever taking it yourself. But then, if he can, doesn’t that technically mean you can to?

“You are sooooooooo thinking about it!”

“W-what? No, I’m not!”

“Liar liar pants on fire! I can so tell!”

His giggling is rough and throaty now. It mutates into moaning as he rocks the bottle in at a particular angle.

“Mm, yeah. That’s the stuff, Johnny boy. I know you’re trying, but you can’t even imagine how good this feels. Not until you try it for yourself. I remember the first time Dave used his fingers on me. I knew it was gonna be great because it was Dave and… Well, if it’s Dave it has to be great! Everything about Dave is great! And it was so, so, sooooo great. You just can’t imagine, Johnny. When he touches you _there,_ and you finally feel it for the first time… It’s better than anything in the whole wide world. And all the other worlds and universes and everything _ever!!!”_

You start freaking out as his voice gets higher.

Not to say that you weren’t already freaking out. You were freaking out long before he got on the topic of Dave. But then he did get on the topic of Dave, and you just kinda… It’s not like you were _imagining_ it or anything. At least, you weren’t imagining it like he was! Ew, definitively not! But you were kind of… You couldn’t help it, OK? Not with him narrating like that! He practically forced the picture into your mind with his sticky, grubby trickster paws! And once it was in there, you just kind of… blanked out. That’s what happened! You blanked out because your mind couldn’t take the idea of not-Dave finger fucking not-you.

Then that stupid trickster obviously started getting really into it and broke the image.

“What are you doing?! Don’t… Don’t act like that! Oh my god, you’re getting close aren’t you? You totally are! I can tell! You better not do it in here, or—”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Johnny, I think you’re maybe just a teensy bit bigger than me.”

You thrust your hands down over your crotch. This is so embarrassing! Why _are_ you so turned on? He is basically just you. This is so weird!

“It’s not gay if it’s you, right?”

He floats closer. You can’t see his hands anymore he’s so close, but you can see the way his shoulders move. He’s still picking up speed.

“It’s just you and your body.”

Your back hits the headboard. You’ve backed up as far as you can go.

 “This is so wrong,” you say.

He closes his eyes. His breath washes over your face as he exhales. It’s hot and sweet. You wonder if he tastes sweet. If _you’d_ taste sweet if you were him.

“Please,” he whispers, and your last shred of resistance breaks as easily as an eggshell.

His lips taste as sweet as you imagine, almost suffocating so. He’s pure sugar with a hint of artificial flavoring, like cotton candy. You can already feel the sugar rush. It goes straight to either end of your body. You are so achingly hard. You need this, need it more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life. But you break away to ask one very important question.

“No homo?”

He giggles again and licks his lips.

“No homo.”


End file.
